I'm The Next Step
by Skarsgodfrey
Summary: Two years following the Summer of 1989 had been kind to the Losers. Not a year after their confrontation of Derry's monster It, the youngsters began to forget. But IT did not. This time It has a different kind of hunger and It's determined to get what It wants. [Bill DenbroughxRobert Gray (Pennywise) Slash] Rated T for now


**Note:** _An IT fanfiction. Bill Denbrough\Robert Gray (Pennywise) Slash. Content warning includes male slash (Bill is 16 and Robert is 17), trauma, dubious consent, child neglegency, and canonical horror and violence. It's an IT story, what more do you expect. Details can be from both the movie and book._

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 **1**

 **Bill Denbrough Takes a Hit**

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The bag was tossed around; Henry Bowers and the rest cackled like hyenas. Their raucous noise angered more than annoyed the Losers. To the Losers' eyes they looked nothing but a gang of punks toying with their prey out of lack of anything better to do. A buncha lazy sleazebags, as Richie Tozier would describe at lunch come morrow at lunch.

Bill's fists clenched on his sides, ready to pounce the punk closer to his left when a flash of black on his peripheral vision caused him to stop and look.

Ben's bag, which was supposed to be passed back to Henry's dirty hands, was suspended in the air three inches from his temple. A long extended arm caught it mid-catch. Henry's eyes widened comically as he scrambled backwards. Seeing Henry's face like that made Bill wish he had a camera with him. _It would have sold millions of copy around school_ , he joked to himself. His friends' faces brightened as if they caught his humor.

The owner of the arm was a tall young man, a year or two older than they were. Bill gave the stranger a quick look-over- he estimated his height to be six-foot tall and his ginger hair was slicked back neatly, making his sharp, chiseled features stand out. Bill averted his eyes just as quickly though it left an unsettling impression on him.

It was a senior student, for sure. Bowers and his goons seem to know this and they eyed the taller teen skeptically, sizing him up. Their calculating gaze met cold, apathetic eyes. The stranger's baleful, large eyes reflected their hatred tenfold.

Any other person, Henry would have threatened them to fuck off with their face bleeding. But something about the stranger's eyes gave him a pause; his mind which rarely registered second thoughts now reconsidered doing _anything_.

Nobody moved- the shock relatively paralyzed their bodies momentarily. No one has ever intervened this _close_ to Henry Bower's episode of cruelty in school. Not one. That is, until the guy showed up. That event followed the quick, inevitable decline in Henry's life the rest of the school year.

The stranger lowered his arm deliberately slow, making the gang of thugs gawk at him disbelievingly- their minds reeled in confusion as to who the heck this person was.

The Losers' defensive stance remained rigid. Though surprised, a glimmer of hopeful expressions passed on their faces when they heard the stranger's grave voice. It was directed at Bowers and his goons. "Do we have a problem here, boys?"

The corner of Bill's lips twitched in a smirk as he watched their faces grow pale.

Silence stretched and the longer Henry waited, the more tense the whole gang became. He surveyed his friends- they shifted awkwardly from where they stood, the eyebrows on their faces were drawn together tightly- their cheeks white. Henry jutted his chin upwards and gave the stranger another once-over.

His eyes squinted from the sunlight and partly because of, though he would not admit it to anyone, _fear_. He squinted so that the others would not have to see the way his pupils expanded to the _whack-whack-whack_ of his heart.

Giving the bag one last look, Henry scoffed and spat on the ground dispassionately, though his shaking hands told another story.

"You pussies won't be lucky next time." He put all effort in making it sound threatening. His goons sneered at the Losers but jumped back in surprise when Richie, Ben, Eddie, Stan, and Mike made a move forward and jerked their fists at them threateningly. The action caught the thugs by surprise their sneers turned to alarm before they steered briskly after Henry's retreating form.

"Yeah, that's right, Banana heels! Run back to yo' mah!" Richie hollered after them.

The Losers watched them retreat then disappear around the corner. _Next time,_ Bill thought, _It won't be my nose bleeding on the gravel, you asshole._

Richie regarded his friends and noticed the crimson mess covering Bill's nose and upper lip. He hurriedly got to Bill's side and put a comforting arm over his shoulder.

"You're bleeding, Big Bill." Eddie's brow raised when he noticed Richie didn't use the Voice. His tone was pure, unabashed concern. Eddie's chest spasmed now that the confontration was over. He wouldn't be able to properly articulate any reaction anyway so he settled to reach in his pocket for the aspirator.

Richie's observation made Bill snort and in doing so he winced in pain. "N-nuh-nuh-no shit, Sherlock."

This erupted a collective laughter from the other Losers and an amused smirk from the young stranger who offered the bag towards Mike.

Bill muttered a 'thanks' to Richie as he took his small towel from him. It may as well be contaminated with Richie's snot and sweat but Bill don't mind. To him this was better than parading his bleeding nose on his way home.

The stranger's eyes flashed curiously to Bill's direction.

Ben Hanscom treaded carefully towards the tall man, his body's sweat stuck to his sweater and some visible on his temple in bullets. "The bag is mine, thank you." His cheeks flushed brightly when his voice became high-pitched at the end. The young man's smirk returned to his face as he let the pudgy-looking kid take the item from his hand.

The rest of the Losers nodded at him solemnly in gratitude.

"Some kids, huh." The young man observed out loud. The others ageed in unison.

The young man clad in a plain white Tee-shirt and black leather jacket sauntered towards Bill.

The Losers watched him warily.

Bill lowered the towel from his face and met the other boy's intense gaze uneasily.

"I'm Robert Gray." He said and held out his hand forward. Bill took it without hesitation. "I'm Buh-Buh-Bill." He expected the judging look directed at his face for stuttering but Robert's face remained stoic and pleasant. What happened instead made Bill's eyes widen when the taller boy's free hand reached to his face; he flinched, expecting another punch to his face but alas, the man truly never seem to stop surprising him and his friends.

The cold contrasted his warm, clammy skin as Robert's thumb and forefinger lifted his chin. Bill's heart fluttered in his chest as piercing green eyes bore into his.

Everything seem to move slowly. The taller boy's face seem to inch closer to his face and this made Bill shiver from where he's frozen. He faintly remembers a feeling of a tranquil infinitude. Of _floating_.

 _(Is his face getting closer or is my mind making it up)_

Bill felt a slick slide of a cold digit against the upper side of his lips. Then it was over.

Robert casted a look to Richie's arm around Bill's shoulder in disdain but it was gone just as quickly replaced by an eerie smile. Bill felt the shiver that _creeped_ in his friend's body. The man's sturdy grip and pleasant smile made his palms sweat. His mind panicked. _Did the Losers see that_?

Richie cleared his throat noisily and dropped his arm, feigning an abrubt cough. Robert's lips split into a grin.

The back of Bill's mind seem to tell him something he could not quite grasp. . .yet. _It's that unnerving grin_ , he observed as he wiped the remaining blood off his face with Richie's towel.

A phantom feeling of being cut open made his skin crawl. And Robert's piercing gaze did not help.

"See you around, Friend." At that he gave him a haughty wink and strode past the Losers with an air of calm menace.

No one said anything for a while- too busy catching breaths they didn't notice they were holding. A telepathic understanding passed from one to another in the group. Whoever that guy was, he was not to be messed with.

They left the school grounds soon with thoughtful frowns etched on their faces.

When it was just Richie and Bill, the latter could not keep his thoughts any longer and blurted out: "Why do I feel like I've known him before, Big Bill?"

Bill's lips thinned as he contemplated his friend's question and it bothered him that he doesn't know the answer. He felt he should _know_ how to explain what happened but it only gave him a headache the more he pushed his mind into thinking. Richie's frown turned into worry when he saw Bill grimace and rub at his temple. And his nose started to bleed to again.

"More to talk about in lunch tomorrow, huh." Bill's head turned to the side to smile at him. "I guh-guh-guess s-s-so." He said softly as he wiped the blood with the borrowed towel.

They let it slide for now and walked their bikes in companionable silence.

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 **Note:** This is my first IT fanfiction and the first fanfic I've posted in years after hiatus. If you see any details worth correcting, please let me know! Also yes, this is an AU where Henry survived his fall because c'mon who else is gonna bully the Losers. Thanks for your time, luvs!


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